Modern Romance
by shloonktapooxis
Summary: A different spin on the love "forever" thing. Short, but i got what i intended. What happens after death to the most dedicated lovers?


**_A/N:_** I wrote this for a HP contest, I didn't want to simply put all of my entries to waste, since they took a little time, so I'm just posting the bits of them to see how others think I did. As you can already see, very short and depressing.

He said he loved me. And if I were to tell the world that it was true, I would be able to do it in a heartbeat. His warm touch was something I could still grasp a tight hold of, could still feel like the rays of a dying sun.

And just like the sun leaving this part of my world, life moves on. Of course, I can't express how it does not move on for me. And if I were to tell the world that I could no longer feel those warm rays of the sun, and vaguely recall his kiss, no one would believe me. If I were to tell a story, that of which was full of misery and sadness, of a once-was love, that resulted in my painfully uttered death...I wonder if anyone would listen.

I am with him as the days move on, always with him. I stand with him through all of his pain, because I was always there when I was living. An angel, that's what one of the words would have been. We can not shake the memory of our love; not even he can, no matter what he does. I doubt that even the strongest spell could break our bond of love. Or that was...the love I thought he had.

He's ecstatic now, doing everything his own way, listening to n one but himself. But he wasn't always like that, oh no, he had always been much, much more.

Famous as he was, Harry Potter had a taste for the women that were some of the most ordinary he could find. At the time, it had been me. I couldn't give you a name, because I can not recall it. Memories fade in this place, they fade so that you have nothing left to go on, so that you can float away without any bonds to that place that so many others had come and gone. I remember hearing once, from a wise man, that death is but the next great adventure...or something of the sort that is. This is no adventure to me, this is holding onto his memory, to his broken love for as long as I can, before I forget...and my world becomes something I'm not prepared for.

Harry had loved me with a passion, a sure passion, for someone real...for someone who could return the same love. And I did, he said things to me that I thought I truly would never forget...but I have. All I know is that they were there once, but they were fading as well, each moment spent here was worse and worse. It was easy to leave this place though, I could haunt Harry without him knowing for as long as I could...until I was taken away. Ripped away from him.

We'd been married, we'd been through the proper engagements of what to do, I even bore his child once...that I know, only two years of a fragile marriage on the jagged rocks. But this...this no one saw coming. Not even myself. I was only two months into my pregnancy, and...

My memory strained, as it always did, I just feel like I knew that he was getting restless, bored with me almost...so much that he avoided me, he didn't have anything to do with my very presence. I suspected something-or...perhaps I didn't. I could hardly recall it anymore; I was fading even as I told my story. All that I know, is he broke my heart, he broke my ways of living, he broke everything inside of me until there was nothing left but a bitter coldness. Coldness described in the deepest of winters.

He didn't want anything to do with me in the slightest any longer. It must have been something I had done, no-no it had never been that. It had been those demons! A memory rushed back to me, ah yes, those hell-bent monsters and minions of the Dark Lord. They wanted me, they wanted our child as well, and he wanted me to stay out of it. I was so worried about him, I did not want him to perish...but at the time, I did not know that was what he was doing.

How could he have ever been protecting me? Now that I think of it, a most vile hate grows inside of my being. How could have hurt me so? He staged it all, down to the very last woman he pretended to be interested in so that he would shake me from him, so that I would not get hurt, and think that he did not want me any longer. He never broke the news to me! It was so final, the divorce was all I could hardly bare, and not even a proper reason from him! He didn't speak to me...refused to speak to me.

Seeing his cheating ways had only hurt me worse than my bitter death. Flashes of his love was all I had thought about in those days, just the smoothness of his flesh next to mine, his fingers entwined in my red thin hair. I had loved him so...

But he made a point to make it worse, to throw salt in the wound, to pretend like I mattered to no one in the world. I would not let my family comfort me; no matter how large, not even my mother was able to break threw to me then. No one at all, I was scattered apart from the world I was forced to live in at that time, a world that made even my tears seem like waterfalls.

He broke my heart...

That was it. He broke my heart...

And is spent a month trying to forget about it, trying to forget about how much it hurt, trying to shake that memory from my dreams. That memory of him...but there was a piece of him growing inside of me now, and I couldn't take it. I couldn't take how he had left those deep scars running through my body. How he would not be there for his child because he was _protecting_ us.

Now I grew angry, and I remembered why I had perished in the first place. They would have expected me to die by the Dark Lord's own hands, the way Harry Potter had hurt his family. But I did not die by any of those sorts; perhaps I died the simplest way, the way that no one, even this time, Harry saw coming himself.

I had never been the type to do such a awful thing, but it had hurt too much to endure, even with my child, I would not allow it to live a life lived in shelter and questions of a father who would never show his face to me.

Nights had been spent crying myself to sleep in silent screams. The quiet voices in my head told me to just give up; urged me to give in to what thoughts I had been thinking of. Perhaps it had started there...yes of course.

I was the reason for this, which was what my head had repeated over and over again. I was the reason I caused us so much hurt, if I had never fallen in love with him, none of this would have happened to my life. My child would have had a father, and we would have been happy, but I had to marry the hero, I had to marry the protector! The killer...

This time, after telling my story to myself, telling about what he had done, I realized that even how devastated his was of my death, I doubted I would ever see him again. I was going to be ripped from this world...and I was going to be sent to a sure hell. Where I would never remember a thing any longer, it was where my kind went, when we made such crimes upon ourselves. I was convinced that Harry murdered me, long before I had done it myself...he had killed out unborn child, before I even had the chance.

So why was I condemned to a fiery depth? He will perish at one point in time, but I would never see him again, never glimpse him again this time...for eternity we will fall apart, because he will return to his maker, his paradise, because he was the hero. Yet I, I will fall deeper into darkness, and meet what those are most afraid of.

A never-ending life in the darkest places on earth...

Upon this realization I felt myself fade away this time, and I could feel the coldness of my future at my back as I fell. Ah death, something that I had done...this was my consequence for sliding that blade along my wrists...deep into my stomach, so that my unborn child would feel the pain as well.

Damn Harry Potter.

Damn him to the depths of Hell, the place I was going to at this exact moment...

But then I felt the last of our love leave...

The last of my memory flourish...

And I was no more. No more but an empty shell without thoughts, and I let down the world. That was all I knew. Everything I could think of...was that I had let down someone out there, let down people who may have cared about me-but no...I couldn't think that way.

Ginny Weasly...

Who was she?


End file.
